


Reader X Skeleton

by LA_Peach



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: NSFW, Other, Reader is gender neutral, Reader-Insert, reader - Freeform, sleepy morning sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 21:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LA_Peach/pseuds/LA_Peach
Summary: You spend a sleepy morning with an aroused skeleton. The skeleton is male, but the reader is up for grabs.





	Reader X Skeleton

**Author's Note:**

> Writen in such a way that (hopefully) the identity of the skeleton and the reader are up to you.

It’s morning but not terribly early. You’ve slept in. You’re awake but in no hurry to be bright eyed or bushy tailed. The morning light streaming through the window is warm and serene; you are so very comfortable on a plushy mattress, draped in cool, crisp sheets.

Everything is right. You are keenly aware of your nose pressing against his nasal bone. You smile, which makes him smile. He brushes his teeth against your lips, feeling your smile press there lazily against him, drinking in your comforting presence. 

The world is calm, as if nothing else exists. You hear the occasional bird trill outside of your window, but nothing else brakes the perfect illusion surround you right now. Perhaps, truly, you were the only two who existed in the whole world.

As you laugh, he runs a hand through your hair, trailing his fingers across your jaw first. They are cool and intent on tickling you, but they warm up as they thread through your hair, taking hold of you gently and pulling you closer for a better kiss.

It’s a lazy, long kiss. You’re still pleasantly drowsy, you don’t bother trying to open your eyes but instead lay in this pleasurable cusp of sleep and wakefulness. You trail your own finger up the side of his neck, letting them fall in and out of all the little pits and valleys that make up the spine, delighting in his little shivers and breathless gasps. 

His bones, like his hands, were cool but warmed as you touched them. He didn’t so much steal your heat as he shared it, warming up the both of you until poking a leg out of your little bundle of limbs would instantly cool it. 

Your hands moved downward almost of their own accord. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. You are exploring, enjoying, being. Across his ribs and down his spine to his hips, carefully tracing the top of the crest and feeling it’s shape beneath your fingers, lightly touching his sacrum and reveling in the little noises that came from deep within him.

His hands were not idle either, reluctantly letting go of your hair so he could explore the rest of you, running his palms down your shoulders, over your chest, down your hips, touching whatever he could reach. Finally, as his hands rest on your buttocks and he drags you closer to him, you are not surprised to feel something firm between his legs; you don’t need to open your eyes to know that a glow was washing over the both you. You know its source, you like it.

Fingers play across your abdomen, slipping between your own legs and carefully exploring you. Tickling, stroking, prodding. He seemed to like touching you as much as you liked receiving it. You curve into his touch and he moans, that tiny little movement, knowing you enjoyed what he was doing and was willing to receive more drove him a little crazy. 

Both of your heads are still fuzzy with sleep. When he rolls you over onto your back, you are still so comfortable, sinking into the plush mattress that you nearly fall asleep again, but his groping hands remain your connection to the real world. It all feels wonderful. 

How to describe the feeling deep in your belly as he forces your legs apart with his own? The sensation of the inside of your thighs sliding across his femurs? Still neither of you have opened your eyes, working on feeling alone, your sense of touch heightened all the more for it. How long had it been since that first small kiss, since your passions slowly, languidly escalated to this moment of duality? 

Your hips tilt up, your buttocks resting on his knees a moment as he wraps his arms about you, pulling you as close as was physically possible. He slips inside of you, the whole thing easy, comfortable, full of pleasure. 

He fills you, slipping in to the hilt. Both of you gasp and pause, reveling in the sensation, the strange moment of coupling that is so very indescribable. The closeness, the friction on strange parts of your body, the gasping noises; can you truly capture it all in words? You don’t try.

The two of you settle into a slow, comfortable rhythm. He pulls out almost completely, letting you both feel his ecto-flesh press against you before disappearing inside of you once again. You are lost in the sensation, the only thing that exists. Even sound seems to dull as your mind focuses in on these amazing things going on in a part of you that so rarely feels so good. The sensation spreads until it is almost as if your whole body is experience this one, undeniable pleasure. 

It’s good, it’s eternal and it’s perfect. Natural, beautiful and right.

Something changes and he presses hard against you, no longer willing to pull out and be so far away. He is so deep inside you his pelvis is grinding against you. It feels like he’s plugged you up, like he no longer has the physical capacity to remove himself. Yes, you want to be filled up, you want him deep inside of your most secret places. You want him to know you.

There is need, but patience as well. As finally he registers the change of the sounds you’re making, knowing you’re close to release, he increases the pressure against you, but is careful not to go too fast. You shift unconsciously, tilting into him just a fraction differently than before and suddenly you are perfectly in sync, perfectly locked together. You feel the build, the telltale signs of the climb, of the crest at the end. He can feel it too. He wants to feel you cum on him, wants to know he did that to you, for you. 

Finally, with a glorious cry, you orgasm. You tighten around him, unable to control the flexing of rarely used muscles. You twitch a little, letting your body fall into the throws of ecstasy. He is not far behind you. Your cries, your delight is all he wants and when he has it, he releases. 

And you feel it. It’s hot inside of you, it prolongs your post-orgasm rapture. Your heels hook around him and force him closer. Happy that you want him still there, still inside of you, he complies, shuddering and shivering as his member pulses inside of you.

You remain this way for some time, unwilling to disengage and bring reality back to you. The two of you hold each other close; until the passion begins to fade and everyday thoughts begin to invade once again.

Finally you allow him to pull out of you, his member already beginning to lose rigidity, and you allow yourself the last pleasure of feeling his seed pour out of you, flood over the both of you and drip down your buttock, onto the mattress below.

Neither of you move to clean it up. Right now you will bask in the pleasant memory you have just made. He lays beside you, drapes an arm across your stomach and snuggles as close to you as he can get. You’re both comfortable, neither of you of any mind to wake up and go about your day.

Your eyes crack open to peek down at the sated skeleton beside you. You breathe a happy sigh, pull him just a little bit closer, and close your eyes again. Not yet. The day can wait.


End file.
